


two pieces of a broken heart

by costia_gray



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Coping, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Loss, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kryptonian Culture & Customs, Lois Lane-centric, Mutual Attraction, Survivor Guilt, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 00:28:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21437194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/costia_gray/pseuds/costia_gray
Summary: Lois doesn’t hear anything else she says. She doesn’t need to, knowing well an apology can only mean one thing… The one thing Clark had promised her would never happen.She feels like the floor has fallen out from under her feet, feels limp in Kara’s arms. The next thing she knows, the world is black.ORLois suffers a terrible loss and tries to get through. Kara stays by her side. Lines begin to blur.
Relationships: Kara Danvers & Lois Lane, Kara Danvers/Lois Lane
Comments: 4
Kudos: 79





	two pieces of a broken heart

Lois is right in the midst of an impromptu _ Friday the 13th _ marathon when she hears the farmhouse’s kitchen door open. She smiles at the familiar creak, the slam of the old screen door following a few seconds later, and sets aside her popcorn to get to her feet. It’s been a few days, but she’s glad the latest crisis is finally over. She needs some quality time to fuss over her favorite superheroes now that they’re home from battle.

When she steps into the kitchen, it’s just Kara. She’s a little dirty, a little bloody, and looks like she could pass out right here on the floor from exhaustion. Lois gives her a cursory scan, looking for more major injuries, but comes up clean. She’s no worse for the wear. That’s good. Reassuring. Even the strongest beings in the world come back damaged sometimes. Part of the world-saving gig.

“Hey, gorgeous,” she says softly, leaning into Kara’s front. “Looking hotter than ever.” She grins, making sure to keep her voice low while strong arms wrap around her tightly and a nose presses into her temple. It’s not unusual for Kara’s hearing to be a little sensitive after a major incident, but she’s always extra tactile, needing hugs and loving from everyone close to her. Lois is happy to give into it, lifting her hands to run them down a firmly muscled back.

A few minutes pass before she pulls back and lifts her eyes to Kara’s. “So, where’s your hunky cousin? Helping out with cleanup, I bet, huh?” She chuckles. It doesn’t take much effort to picture that in her mind’s eye. Clark’s just so _ good _ like that. “Such a Boy Scout, that man.”

Kara doesn’t smile.

And that’s fine. Lois is under no illusions about her particular brand of sarcastic humor; it doesn’t always land. But something about it generally tickles her favorite Kryptonians, and Kara’s lack of reaction throws her. She frowns, searching out blue eyes, and lifts a hand to cup Kara’s cheek.

“Hey. What’s going on? You won, right? No victory smile, Supergirl?”

Kara swallows. Audibly. She averts her eyes and Lois feels fear tightening her chest. Kara and silence are never a good mix; Lois had learned that from Alex a long time ago. Kara goes silent when her emotions are too overwhelming, when she has something she needs to get off her chest but no words to express it. Normally, Lois wouldn’t push her but this time she feels like she _ has to_.

“Kara,” she says quietly, gripping the flexible material of Kara’s suit. Her hands dig in on either side of the House of El coat of arms displayed proudly on Supergirl’s chest. The same symbol her too-conspicuously absent husband wears, too.

She takes a moment, processes the words in her mind, then lets the stilted Kryptonese fall from her tongue.

_ “Kara. Where is Kal-El?” _

Kara meets her eyes with mild surprise. Clark never really speaks Kryptonese. He didn’t grow up with the language like Kara did, but he knows a little. One day, Lois cajoled him into sharing that little with her, too. She’s inquisitive, likes to learn things. And a language from another planet? That was right up her alley.

It’s not much, and it’s not great, but she knows right now it’s caught Kara’s ear.

Kara sighs, her breath trembling, and Lois watches as tears well up in those bright blue eyes. A big hand moves from her back to her cheek, one long finger tracing the line of her jaw. Lois can hear her heart pounding in her ears, and if it weren’t for the iron grip she has on Kara’s chest, she’s afraid her knees would already have given out. Dread pulses through her, and she prays it’s a false alarm.

“Lo,” Kara whispers, “I-I’m _ so _ s-sorry. I tr-tried to—”

Lois doesn’t hear anything else she says. She doesn’t need to, knowing well an apology can only mean one thing… The one thing Clark had _ promised _ her would never happen.

She feels like the floor has fallen out from under her feet, feels limp in Kara’s arms. The next thing she knows, the world is black.

**X**

When Lois wakes up again, she’s in bed, the smell of her husband surrounding her. She breathes in the comforting scent deeply and instinctively reaches for the body beside her. Her eyes don’t flutter open until her brain realizes that the person beside her isn’t her buff, broad hunk of man-candy.

The form beside her is still lean with muscle but smaller. Feminine. Familiar. An herbal scent — lavender, she realizes — wafts into her nose. It makes her think of home. Or home in what little fashion a military brat ever _ has _ a home.

“Lucy.”

Her eyelids peel open, feeling heavy and grimy. She rubs at them impatiently with the back of her wrist, blinks rapidly until she can finally _ see _ her little sister lying in bed beside her. It’s been so long since they’ve been together, she can’t help wondering if it’s a dream. Maybe it’s _ all _ a dream, a terrible nightmare. Maybe if she can shake this off, she’ll wake up and find Clark snoring beside her.

But Lucy reaches for her hand, and she knows.

Tears sting the back of her eyes, and her throat feels tight, thick with the weight of repressed sobs. Lucy’s arms wrap around her, guiding her head to her chest, one hand sifting soothingly through her hair. Lois clings to her, uses her like an anchor. Her sister. Her blood. No matter their differences, Lois loves her more than she can say.

“H-How—” She stutters and stops, too overwhelmed with grief to finish the question. _ How did you know? _

“Kara called. She told me what happened, that you needed me, and I came.”

Lois nods and sinks into her sister’s comfort, willingly given. She gives in to her grief.

She’s not sure how long she cries. It could have been days; it’s all a teary blur to her. But Lucy stays without complaint, whispering to her soothingly, humming the tune of an old lullaby Lois remembers their mother singing to them in early childhood. She is warm and solid, and Lois feels her sister’s love engulf her for the first time in years.

She falls asleep again.

**X**

When Lois wakes again, it’s because her mouth is unbearably dry. She drags herself upright, presses a hand against her throbbing forehead and runs the other hand down her face, feeling the places where tears have dried on her cheeks. She feels exhausted, too tired and dehydrated to cry right now, although grief sits heavily on her chest.

A glance tells her that Lucy is gone, but the bedroom door is half open and she can hear voices echoing upstairs from the ground floor. It feels like a Herculean effort, but she swings her legs out of bed and presses her bare feet down on the cool wood floor. It creaks as she makes her way around the bed, wrapping her hand around the edge of the door to pull it farther open.

As the stairs squeak beneath her feet, the voices below begin to fade. By the time she steps into the kitchen, the room is so silent she can hear the refrigerator humming. She pads through without saying a word, pours herself a large glass of water, and turns to see just who has invaded her home.

Lucy sits not far from her — arm’s length at most — at the kitchen island, her head bowed over an iPad. Jimmy sits beside her with his ear pressed to his phone, his lips a grim line. Lois wonders idly who’s on the other end of that line and if they’ve hung up since Jimmy went unexpectedly mute.

She moves out of the kitchen to get a better look into the living room. Alex Danvers is seated on the couch with her own iPad in hand. Kara is beside her — on top of her, more like, wrapped around her like a koala bear clinging to a eucalyptus tree. Lois can see the tear tracks on her cousin-in-law’s face and her heart aches even though she wants to be angry, wants to cast blame on this girl who lived while Clark died.

She can’t do that, though. Lois is many things, but she is not cruel. And she knows Kara is suffering just as much as she is. She’s lost her only living biological family, the cousin she was meant to protect all those years ago. She will hate herself for this for the rest of her life, Lois knows that, no matter who was truly at fault.

It occurs to Lois that she doesn’t _ know _ what happened. What killed her husband? She had passed out before anything Kara recounted to her made it into her ears. She considers if she wants to know, but she knows the answer is yes in an instant. She has to know; it’s who she is. She will never have closure if she allows herself to glide through this ignorantly.

“Kara,” she says. The tension in the room seems to grow more stifling, but Kara turns to look at her. “Can we talk outside?”

She hesitates just for a second, but Alex rubs her arm, encouraging her, and she lets her sister out of her arms. She’s radiating nervous, defensive energy, and it bothers Lois. Kara hasn’t been this intimidated by her since they first met, before they found their rapport, and instinctively, she wants to reassure her.

As soon as she’s within reach, Lois reaches out to take her hand and squeezes _ hard_. She wants Kara to feel it and knows tight pressure is the only way under a yellow sun. It’s always been one of the things she loves best about her sweet aliens. She can hug them as hard as she wants and they _ love _ it.

Kara softens, her shoulders relaxing, and smiles. It’s tiny but it’s there, and Lois feels relieved. She leads Kara outside to the old porch swing and curls up against her, nuzzling into the curve of her long neck. Instantly, Kara melts, sobs wracking her body, tears leaking down Lois’s temple.

They cry together for a long time before Lois asks Kara to tell her. The alien resists, squirming uncomfortably at the idea, but Lois begs her. She has to know. She has to understand or she’ll never stop wondering.

And of course, Kara gives in, her voice unsteady and trembling as she whispers into Lois’s ear. They have to stop a couple of times because the tears can’t be restrained anymore. But eventually, it all comes out.

It ends the way Lois expected; her stupidly brave, stupidly selfless, stupidly loyal husband took the hit for his cousin. Stepped in front of a Kryptonite blast meant for Kara, _ aimed at _ Kara. He died in her place.

Kara is inconsolable. Blames herself. Tells Lois she wishes he had let her die. Wonders why he thought her life was worth more.

Lois sees red.

“Stop,” she seethes, seizing Kara’s face in both of her hands. “He loved you so much. More than anything, he wanted to do right by you. He gave his life for you because you meant the world to him. And I know you would have done the same for him, you big dumb alien.”

When she sees the guilt in Kara’s eyes and realizes what she’s done, that she allowed rage to overtake her and was too harsh, she loosens her grip. She runs soothing hands across the alien’s chest to calm her, taking slow breaths to steady herself as well.

“Don’t go,” Lois says softly, her cheeks warming when she sees the look of surprise in Kara’s eyes. “I know…you have your own life to go back to, but—”

“I’ll be here, Lo,” Kara interrupts her gently. “As long as you need me, I’m here. I promise.”

Lois smiles softly, letting strong arms cradle her close again. She lets herself feel certain, reassured.

Kara always keeps her promises.

**X**

Lois doesn’t really remember much of the next two days. Alex, Lucy, and Jimmy take care of everything, make all the arrangements. They ask her if she wants to write Clark’s obituary, but she refuses. In the back of her mind, she’s always thought she would if something happened, but when it comes down to it, she just can’t stomach it.

(Kara writes it instead and brings it to her for approval. It’s so good Lois could almost kiss her; instead, they spend another hour holding each other and crying.)

Martha makes it home from Topeka the day after. Lois already feels like a soulless shell of a person by that point. She watches how calmly Clark’s mother handles it all, how she stays strong enough to comfort both Lois and Kara, and she’s a mess. Baffled and envious and ashamed all in one fell swoop. How can she possibly be more broken than her mother-in-law, the woman who raised _ Superman_?

The funeral falls on Thanksgiving.

The service is small but respectable, held at the farm. Kara stays vigilantly by her side, a hand on her arm or her shoulder or the small of her back at all times. The heroes who fought alongside him appear in civilian clothes, sprinkled in among their friends from college, from _ The Daily Planet_. Kara stands beside her and introduces her to a few of the comrades she doesn’t recognize; they give their condolences.

It’s a somber affair, and really, she doesn’t feel much like eating the feast Martha has prepared with Kara and Lucy’s assistance. She has nothing much she feels thankful for now, not after they’ve just buried her husband. But Kara sits her down at the table with a healthy helping of everything and insists she eat, to keep her strength up. She gives in; she doesn’t have the will to argue.

She makes it through, but she barely leaves their bedroom for the next three days.

**X**

In the two weeks following his death, the people who’ve kept her company in the quiet old farmhouse start to return to their lives.

Lucy goes first.

They hug for a long time outside Lois and Clark’s bedroom. They hold hands and whisper apologies, beg for forgiveness for past sins. They promise to stay in touch more, to see each other sometimes. It’s a promise Lois is willing to keep and one she prays Lucy will keep, too.

She has a good feeling this time. For once, it really hurts to see her go.

Jimmy is next. She loves Clark’s friend, but in all honesty, that’s all that he is: Clark’s friend. He tells her to call him anytime, and she says she will when she knows she won’t. She appreciates the thought, the intention, but she’s not sad when his rental car makes its way off the farm.

Martha follows not long after Jimmy. Lois clings to her like a lifeline when she admits it’s time for her to leave. She understands, of course; Martha has a Senate seat to defend, and she doesn’t have the luxury of an extensive leave. But she kisses Lois’s cheeks, tells her to take care and promises she’ll be home for Christmas.

She calls from the airport an hour later, and Lois’s heart soars. Martha is all the things the General never was: gentle and kind and understanding. She has been like a mother to Lois since she met Clark, everything Lois has desperately missed since she lost her mother years ago. It’s nice to know the love Martha has for her doesn’t hinge on Clark.

Alex is the last remaining straggler. She is a good friend, a good kid, but she’s here for Kara and they both know it. She tries every tool she has to bring her sister home with her, but Kara refuses, meeting Lois’s eyes over her sister’s shoulder when Alex hugs her fiercely goodbye. Lois feels guilty for a moment. She wonders if it was wrong of her to ask Kara to stay when Alex needs her more.

Kara’s leaning beside her on the porch rail when Alex’s car disappears from sight. Lois leans against her side, drawn to the heat and solidity of the Kryptonian’s body. It’s December and the temperatures are almost freezing at night. She draped herself in one of Clark’s old flannels, but it’s not enough to chase away the cold.

“She needs to learn to worry about herself,” Kara says softly, still staring out into the night. Lois wonders if she’s still watching Alex’s car with her enhanced vision. She wouldn’t be surprised; a part of Lois envies the closeness of Alex and Kara’s sisterhood, how vehemently they love and protect each other.

“She loves you,” Lois murmurs, curling against her as the breeze caresses her face. Kara’s arm opens, guiding her closer into the unearthly heat of her body. Lois shivers with relief. “Maybe you should have gone with her.”

Kara shakes her head, kissing Lois lightly on the cheek. “I’m exactly where I need to be right now. I’m here for you, Lo.”

Despite herself, Lois smiles.

**X**

When she calls up to the _ Planet_, Perry tells her to take all the time she needs. He’s always liked Lois, and she’s never been more grateful for that than she is now. It’s nice to know she’ll be able to return to her job when she’s ready without worry. It’s a privilege, one she doubts Perry would quite so kindly grant anyone else.

She stays in Smallville, Kara never far from her side. Supergirl flies off occasionally to take care of super-responsibilities, but for the most part, she’s just here. She takes care of the farm singlehandedly, as if she’s been raised to do it. Lois helps out a bit too, but mostly she just likes watching Kara; it reminds her of Clark, particularly when she replaces a section of rotted fencing one day.

Lois’s bisexuality has never been a secret or a struggle and it still isn’t. She frequently expressed attraction to women in front of Clark, even an attraction to Kara on a few occasions. He was never threatened because there was no need to worry, and he honestly just wasn’t that kind of guy. But now that her husband is gone, it feels gut-wrenchingly wrong to enjoy the way Kara’s muscles pull when she plunges a new fence post into the icy ground with ease.

She considers sending Kara home more times than she can count. Farm life looks good on her, but she isn’t meant to stay here. She has a life in National City, across the country, with family and friends and a wonderful job waiting for her. It’s selfish of Lois to keep her here.

It doesn’t feel selfish, though. It feels _ good_, but selfish things usually do. Kara attends to her like she’s a queen. Cooking, cleaning, entertaining. There are days the numbness fades and she feels human again, _ happy_. Sometimes she catches herself looking at her watch while they watch movies together or read together or Kara tells tales of Krypton, wondering when Clark will be home.

Then the heartbreak hits all over again.

But as the weeks pass, the pain starts to ease. It may never disappear, but she starts to believe it won’t always hurt quite so much.

**X**

Reluctantly, Kara flies home for Christmas Day. Lois pokes and prods her, insisting she’s just fine. Martha’s home to keep her company, if only until tomorrow, and Lois knows Kara has traditions with the Danvers she doesn’t _ really _ want to miss.

She’s trying to be selfless, but even with Martha’s company, her heart aches with loneliness. Clark is gone and her only solace in the wake of his death is gone, too. Temporarily, she knows, but still. The selfishness bleeds through.

She talks to Lucy for a long time, listening as her sister regales her with stories of her new girlfriend. She sounds happy, and Lois is glad for that. And when Lucy tells her she wishes Lois was there, for the first time, Lois believes it. She returns the sentiment just as sincerely.

It feels really good to miss her sister and know she’s missed in return. It’s another step in a good direction.

Kara’s back the next morning to see Martha off to the airport again, and Lois clings to her until she’s sure she’s staying.

**X**

_ “I wish you would come home.” _

Lois stops at the top of the stairwell when she hears Alex’s voice early one morning. For a moment, Lois wonders if the elder Danvers came in sometime during the night and she slept right through it. But it’s more likely that Kara is multitasking — making breakfast judging by the smell — and put her sister on speaker to chat.

As quietly as she can, Lois sinks down onto the top stair and leans forward to listen better. She knows she shouldn’t, but the reporter in her has been getting a little antsy lately. Kara typically takes her calls in the guest room or outside when she’s around. Curiosity burns through Lois’s veins. She has to indulge it every once in a while, and frankly, not much out of the regular happens on the farm.

“Alex, I saw you yesterday,” Kara says patiently. Lois can picture the fond smile she’s wearing. It’s always the same when she thinks about Alex. “Remember? The fourteen-eyed alien hybrid?”

_ “But you’re not home-home,” _ Alex persists. _ “How long are you planning to stay out there? It’s already been two months.” _

Lois hears a sizzling sound and the smell of melted chocolate reaches her nose. Chocolate chip pancakes, she’s sure of it in an instant. Kara’s favorite to cook_ and _ to eat and Lois has grown fond of the fluffy, sugary delights as well.

“As long as Lois needs me. However long that is.” There is a hint of exasperation in her voice, but Lois can tell it’s directed toward Alex for asking the question. Relief washes over her. She tries not to but can’t help her worry. She knows Kara hasn’t been away from Alex for this long since college.

_ “Look, I know you feel like you owe her because of what happened to Clark, but you shouldn’t stay out of obligation, Kara. You can still check in without living there.” _

“I don’t feel obligated, Lex,” Kara tells her sister firmly, insistent. Lois sucks on her bottom lip anxiously, listening more intently now. “It may have started like that, but…Lois is important to me. Not just because of Clark. She just…_is_.”

There’s silence for a minute; Lois hears the spatula scraping along the bottom of the skillet. Her belly is empty, but she’s resisting the urge to make herself known for now. She doesn’t want to interrupt Kara’s conversation just yet, curious if they’ll say more about her.

_ “Are you falling in love with her?” _

Lois’s heart stops and her breath catches in her throat. The thought had never occurred to her until now, but…could it be? Could Kara be falling for her? Her mind races, running through every little interaction they’ve shared. 

_ Kara’s super affectionate. But that’s just _ ** _Kara_**_. Right? _

“It’s not like that,” Kara protests. “I care about her, that’s all. Why does it have to be romantic?”

The argument sounds weak even to Lois’s ears, so it’s no surprise when she hears Alex scoff over the phone.

_ “It doesn’t _ ** _have to_ ** _ be. But I know you, Kara Zor-El. You’ve always had a crush on her, and now that there’s this new closeness, you’re falling for her. Am I right?” _

Lois stands abruptly, stumbling down a couple of steps before she manages to catch herself on the banister. It’s loud, unmissable. When she looks up, Kara’s two steps below her, watching her with a mix of concern and apprehension. For what feels like an eternity, all she can do is stare at her, caught and dizzy with new information.

_ Kara has a crush on me? _

When she recovers, she slaps on a smile and lets the first excuse that comes to her mind trip off her tongue. “Guess I wasn’t as awake as I thought there, huh? Damn old stairs. Should probably be condemned.”

It’s a lie and they both know it. The stairs are old but not falling-apart-old. Clark had even given them a fresh wax and coat of paint just last year. But it saves Lois from admitting to eavesdropping and eases any nervousness Kara might feel about being overheard. Win-win, right?

“And I thought I was clumsy,” Kara finally says. The words are weaker than Lois thinks they were meant to be, and the smile that follows is tentative. But neither of those things stop steady hands from reaching out and righting her stance.

“Do I smell chocolate chip pancakes?” she asks, desperate to change the subject, to distract herself.

This time, Kara’s smile is far more genuine. She tugs Lois gently into the kitchen, pulling out a stool for her at the island. The gesture plucks at Lois’s heartstrings.

“I knew I’d convert you, Lois Lane.” Kara grins, setting a steaming stack of pancakes before her. “Whipped cream?”

“Please.” Lois nods, and a second later the can appears alongside a huge glass of orange juice. “What would I do without you?”

Kara’s cheeks turn dark pink. She’s so damn _ pretty _ and Lois is utterly entranced. There’s something about seeing Kara flushed with pleasure that strikes a chord deep inside Lois. Something that makes her want to reach out… to try… just to see…

She _ wants_. She wants so deeply, so intensely, that it’s jarring.

When Kara begins making small talk and suggests they go into town together, Lois says yes at once. Maybe some outside interaction will set her right again.

**X**

Lois loves Smallville. She’s lived here on and off for years now and considers it her first and only _ real home_. Her reputation precedes her these days — not many Pulitzer-winning journalists wander Smallville’s streets — but it holds no weight with these people, a lot of whom she’s known for ages.

That part’s nice.

What isn’t nice are the words of condolence. The sympathetic smiles. The constant influx of well-meaning but patronizing comments doesn’t sit well with her either. Her temper starts to flare after the fifth time someone pats her shoulder and says, “Oh, you poor dear.”

But Kara lays a palm against the back of her neck and she stops before she starts, melting into Kara’s touch. Internally, she curses herself for being so _ weak_. One little touch and she’s melting.

It’s pathetic. Disgusting. The man she loves has barely been gone for two months. She shouldn’t want to so much as look at another person. And her husband’s _ cousin_?

There has to be something wrong with her. She’s in mourning. She’s heartbroken, damn it. Even if there was a chance of something with Kara (or _ anyone_), she isn’t over Clark yet. She doubts she’ll ever truly be over him, but moving on _ now _ is unfathomable.

But Alex’s words keep on repeating in her head, over and over again.

_ You’ve always had a crush on her. _

_ You’re falling for her. Am I right? _

It’s too much.

**X**

Bottling up what she thinks, what she feels, does not work for Lois. Bullshitting and playing nice isn’t in her nature. Maybe putting on a mask and keeping things light and fluffy works for most people, but Lois isn’t most people. Facing hard truths and confronting all her difficulties head-on is what she’s all about, who she is at her very core.

She lasts four nights and four days before she can’t take it anymore. She’s turned into such a fumbling mess that Kara’s started to joke that she’s rubbing off on her. And _ that’s _ done nothing but made her think dirty, guilt-inducing thoughts.

She’s been holed up in her room all day. Kara coaxed her down to eat lunch, but she’s spent every other second immersed in Clark’s scent. She wrapped one of the flannels left in their closet around a big body pillow to snuggle. It soothed her, a little, but it’s not really enough.

Kara’s reading in Martha’s rocking chair when Lois stomps into the living room. She’s restless and frustrated and so deeply conflicted it makes her heart ache. And when Kara looks up at her with devotion in her eyes and an innocent smile on her face, she just can’t take it anymore.

She drops down onto the unoccupied stool at Kara’s feet. Without preamble, she asks, “Are you in love with me?”

It’s blunt and to the point. She’s been stewing in these confusing thoughts and feelings for what feels like an eternity, and she’s just not in the right headspace to couch it right now. Not even for Kara.

Kara, for her part, looks completely blown away. “Lois, what are you—”

“I heard you talking to Alex,” Lois cuts in, too exasperated to be properly apologetic for eavesdropping. “You didn’t confirm or deny, but I see how you look at me. I’m sure you’re at least attracted to me. But I need to know if it’s more, Kara. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Silence falls. Kara bows her head, and when she looks up again, her teeth are digging into her lower lip and her blue eyes are welling with tears. She looks heartbroken, and Lois can’t stand the sight. She very nearly curls into her arms but forces herself to be still, to wait.

“Yes.” Kara’s voice is no more than a whisper when she finally answers. “I’m in love with you, Lois.” She pauses, takes a shuddering breath, then continues at a closer to normal volume. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I really didn’t. I know… I _ know _ nothing can happen. You’re Clark’s _ wife_, and I— I should never have thought of you like that. But it just…happened.”

Somehow, hearing the truth admitted doesn’t make Lois feel the way she’d expected. She’d thought knowing it was real, that it wasn’t something her crazed, unstimulated, one-track mind was inventing off a baseless suggestion, would soothe her. Instead, she hurts for Kara. Because she’s so earnest and sincere, and it can’t happen. They both know it.

Life just isn’t that easy. _ Love _ isn’t that easy.

Kara wipes a few fallen tears away with the heel of her palm and inhales deeply. Lois stays silent, lets her have the time she needs to gather herself. She feels like an ass now, for springing this on the poor, unsuspecting girl.

But then, because she can’t help herself, she says, “I love you, you know.”

“Lo…” Kara shakes her head, lifting her eyes to Lois’s. “You don’t have to say that.”

“I’m not,” Lois says firmly. “You know me, Kara. You know I don’t say what I don’t mean. You mean a lot to me. You always have.” She claps her hands over Kara’s knees, squeezing hard to make sure the younger woman is taking her seriously.

“I didn’t…” Kara takes a breath, looking as if she’s considering what she’s about to say before she continues. “I never expected this to happen. Honestly, at first, I thought it was because…well, you’re my family. Technically, you’re all I have left of my House now that Kal-El is gone. If something like this had happened on Krypton, I would be expected to take you as _ my _ bonded as Kal’s closest unbonded relative. I would care for you and protect you in his stead.”

“Sounds biblical,” Lois comments, surprised. From everything she’s heard, Krypton was light years ahead of Earth in most respects. It’s interesting to hear that they adhered to a custom most Earth cultures had frowned upon for centuries now. It sounds exactly like something you would read in Bible stories.

Kara shrugs sadly. She looks wistful, and Lois hopes she isn’t insulted by her remark, but she doesn’t seem to be. Lois has long ago learned to read Kara pretty well.

“It was mostly a matter of status,” she explains. “If you came from a noble house of your own, the House of El would likely want to hold on to whatever alliance was made between our houses. If you were a commoner, it would depend on how well-liked you were.”

“Then I definitely would have been safe!” Lois smiles broadly, her tone cocky. She may be a little full of herself, but she knows her strengths, and she’s good with people.

“You would have been,” Kara agrees with a chuckle. “You’re a charmer, Lo. Inquisitive and clever and sweet. Beautiful.” She smiles fondly and tucks a stray strand of hair back behind her ear. “My parents and my aunts and uncles would have adored you. And I’m sure I would have fallen in love with you there, too.”

The mood sobers again, just a bit. This is serious, and as much as a part of Lois is dying to lighten the mood, she wants to give this conversation its due. Kara is too important to her. It would be the peak of assholery for her to disregard that when Kara is being so real with her.

“I would _ never _ expect you to reciprocate feelings for my sake,” Kara tells her softly. “I hope you don’t think I expected—”

“I know, gorgeous,” Lois assures her. “I know. It’s okay.” She lifts Kara’s hand, splaying the Kryptonian’s palm across her cheek. “You have no idea how much it means that you… that you feel that way about me. I wish I could—”

“I know,” Kara interjects this time. “That’s why I never planned to say anything. I know you don’t feel the same way. That you love me but not…like that. You couldn’t, especially not now.”

Lois leans into Kara’s strong hand, looking right into her eyes. “Not now, no. But I’ve always had a little bit of a thing for you.” It’s said lightly, like she’s joking, but it’s true. She used to tease Clark that if Kara had made it here first like she was meant to, Lois probably would have fallen for her just as easily.

“You’ve always been so good to me, Kara. I _ do _ love you. You know that.” She raises her eyebrows questioningly. “You _ know that_, right?”

Kara nods, her thumb stroking down toward the corner of Lois’s lips. She looked so disappointed, but when a small smile twitches across her lips, Lois knows she understands. She’ll be okay. Her heart has broken far too many times, but it will repair itself again. Lois just wishes she hadn’t had to do the breaking this time.

“I think it’s time for you to go home,” she says quietly. She isn’t trying to be unkind, but they can’t go on living in this place together. The situation is too complex. “I think we _ both _ need to go home.”

“Yeah.” Kara sighs, pulling her hand back from Lois’s face to press against her own temple. “I think you’re right.”

**X**

The next morning, before the sun has risen, Lois stirs awake when she feels the press of soft lips against her forehead. It’s so gentle, a part of her thinks it’s just a dream. But then long fingers trace the curve of her jaw, and she blinks over at Kara blearily.

She’s dressed in her super suit, a goddess of light even in the darkness. Lois squints at the clock on the cable box across the room. It’s barely five o’clock in the morning. Is there some kind of super-emergency?

But Kara lingers, crouching by Lois’s side, apparently not in a hurry to leave. She’s clearly leaving, though. She looks regretful, guilty, and the same emotions settle uncomfortably inside Lois’s chest. She doesn’t want Kara to go, not really, but they both know they can’t do this forever.

She just hadn’t expected it to happen like this.

“You don’t have to go now,” she tries softly. “We can have breakfast, and I can help you pack, and—”

“I don’t want to draw things out,” Kara says. “It’s already hard. If I stay longer, it’s only going to be harder.”

Lois knows she’s right, but she doesn’t like it. She doesn’t want Kara to ever feel that way about her, and her heart aches for what their relationship will become. She knows it’s never going to be the same. She should have left well enough alone and everything would be fine. But they both know that’s not what she does.

“I took care of things in Metropolis for you a few weeks ago. Everything of…” She trails off, biting her lip a second, then awkwardly clears her throat. “It’s in storage. I left the key and the information in your desk drawer at the apartment if you want anything back. I can help, too, if you need me.”

Lois swallows hard, tears rapidly filling her eyes. Kara’s expression softens, and she leans forward, drawing Lois into her arms to comfort her. It’s not fair, really, and Lois knows that. But she takes the comfort anyway, burying her face in Kara’s shoulder and letting herself cry.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I wish—”

“Shh,” Kara hushes her, hand stroking through her hair. “It’s okay. I’ll be okay. We couldn’t stay this way forever, Lo. I know that.”

Lois nods, and Kara slowly pulls away. She doesn’t get far, though, before Lois’s hand is on her arm, tugging her back. She smiles at the surprise in Kara’s eyes when she leans in close and places a short, chaste kiss against full lips. The superhero’s eyes are half-lidded when Lois pulls away, her lips curled up into a small smile.

“Thank you,” Lois murmurs. “Don’t forget about me, gorgeous. Okay?”

It takes a few seconds before Kara seems to come back to herself fully. But then, the smile fades and her eyes seem to darken, clouded with tears. Lois wraps her arms around her again, holding her as tight as she can until she starts to feel strain in her muscles.

“I’ll call you,” Kara murmurs. “In a while. I promise.” Her smile is shaky and weak, and Lois can see the struggle plainly, the heartbreak. She hates knowing she is the cause. She wishes things were different, simpler. But there is just no way. Not now.

“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good.” Kara nods, once. “Go back to sleep.” She gets to her feet and makes her way out the door, pulling it shut with a quiet click behind her.

Lois is on her feet and ripping open the curtains before she even fully processes the thought. With a heavy heart, she watches Kara take off into the sky, a streak of red and blue disappearing in an instant.

Before long, not a hint of primary colors remains visible in the darkness of the night sky.

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure if anyone else is interested or not, but I've had a niggling to do something with these two for a while now. They have so much potential in every respect, so I just had to try my hand at them.


End file.
